


And I’ll Fly on the Wings of a Butterfly

by Blacklaceslytherin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fix-It, POV Sansa, Past Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, She’s happy, and now in highgarden with all the lemon cakes she could ever want, bc joffreys an asshole who isn’t fit to touch the ground she walks on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 16:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6761050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blacklaceslytherin/pseuds/Blacklaceslytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fix-it of sorts, and also because I’m Sansa/Willas trash.</p><p>“You'll love Willas, he’s the kindest man that ever was” Margaery smiles as she speaks to Sansa. This doesn’t stop the panic that starts to claw at Sansa’s throat. Everyone said that Joffrey was the most gallant man in all the realms, and look where that has gotten her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I’ll Fly on the Wings of a Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a repost off my old account, not plagiarizing, I swear.

          Sansa’s first thought as she looks upon the land that she is to one day be Lady of, is that Reach in beautiful in the way only a place untouched by war can be. It seems that every detail Margaery has told her about Highgarden is true. Honesuckles and glden roses are blooming in every crevice in the road, birds singing out of every tree, and the grass is unlike anything she has seen on her journey from Winterfell to the vipers pit that is King’s Landing. From the wheelhouse Sansa can faintly see the outline of Highgarden’s castle, sheer walls of white stone that rise up from the fertile ground beneath, covered with climbing vines of ivy and rose trellises.

          Sansa hopes that she will find peace here, a life away from Joffrey, Queen Cersei, and the courtiers who tittered behind their fans and handkerchiefs as the knights of the Kingsgaurd beat her. She reminds herself that everything said about Willas has been good. _I will be safe in Highgarden. Willas will keep me safe._ Both Margaery and Ser Loras had vouched for their eldest brother, "Willas has a bad leg but a good heart," Margaery had said "He used to read to me when I was a little girl, and draw me pictures of the stars. You will love him as much as we do, Sansa."

Margaery would tell her stories, all from her childhood. About her and her brothers growing up, the trouble they would get in as they would sneak into the gardens when they should be in their lessons, playing tag as the nursemaids chased after the four of them. Margaery also protected her from Joffrey. Unlike when Sansa was his betrothed, he favored Magaery, his Queen-to-be, and would listen to her suggestions intently. Those suggestions most likely saved her life.

           Ser Garlan and Lady Olenna also gave their assurances that he was a kind man, and that he would make a kind husband. ‘ _But everyone said Joffrey was kind and handsome, that any girl would be honored and lucky to be his wife’_ Sansa thought to herself, ‘ _and he was the cruelest person I ever knew’._ She took a deep breath to calm herself, “You wanted this.” She murmurs to herself, fiddling with the chain hung around her neck. The pendant is a Stark direwolf, one of the few things left from before Kings Landing.

          The wheelhouse comes to an abrupt stop, catching her unawares. She peers out from behind the curtains to see that their party has arrived at their destination. Sansa looks the people who litter the steps up to the grand entrance and sees that one of them has a cane. His features are hard to make out from this distance, but she can tell he has the same slim build as his brothers and the signature loose golden brown curls that grace the head of every Tyrell she has met before. Garlan opening the door forces her out of her musings, and she takes graciously takes his hand as he helps her down from the carriage. He nods at her, as if to ask if she can handle this. Garlan knows intimately about the horrors she lived through in the capitol. Sansa told both Garlan and Leonette everything after they woke her from her nightly terrors. She nods back an affirmative-she can do this.

          Sansa’s first unobstructed view of Highgarden takes her breath away, for no words or reminisces or distant looks could have ever fully prepared her for the sublime beauty that is Highgarden. Leonette and Garlan flanked her on either side as they walk up the steps to the people who eagerly await their arrival. What shocks her is the man with the cane who stands in the middle of his companions. His face, framed with gentle curls and characterised by soft brown eyes, splits into a wide grin as he comes down the steps in an odd sort of hobble as he moves to embrace Garlan. Garlan’s own face breaks into a grin as he sprints up the step until he reaches the man that can only be Willas. The two men clasp each other tightly and don’t look like they will move anytime soon, which gives Sansa a much needed moment to take in the unfolding events.

          She and Leonette move at a more sedated pace up the steps, and the butterflies in Sansa’s stomach seem to multiply rather than abate. “Nervous?” Leonette asks from Sansa’s right. “Yes.” She answers honestly, because there are a million words to describe how Sansa feels right now and nervous doesn’t seem to cover even a portion of it, but it does cover the basics.

          When the two of them come up upon the embracing men, Leonette primly clears her throat and fixes a glare at her husband. Garlan steps back from his brother and they both turn to the two of them, while maintaining the space Sansa so desperately craves. “Lady Sansa, may I introduce you to my brother, heir of Highgarden, master Falconer, and book lover extraordinaire, Willas Tyrell.”

          He’s smiling, Leonette is smiling, Willas is smiling, everyone around her is smiling asshe is introduced to the only man brave enough to wed a traitors daughter. “I am very pleased to met you, my lord.” Willas’s gaze causes Sansa to blush, but she successfully speaks without stuttering. He surprises her by tossing his head back and laughing. It’s a clear, open laugh, unlike Joffrey’s cruel and grating one. “Willas, please My Lady, after all we are to be married.” She dips her head and says, “Well than, I must insist you call me Sansa.” “Of course, Sansa.” If possible, he grins even wider as he moves to escort her up the steps.

         He takes her arm as they walk, Garlan and Leonette following at a slower pace behind them. “What are your thoughts on the Reach, Sansa?” Willas asks her with an honest face, eyes sparkling in the sunlight. For a second she has to fight down the feeling of overwhelming panic, _He is not Joffrey, he is not the King, and he cannot hurt me._ “It is gorgeous, nothing like Winterfell, Lord Tyrell-Willas.”

          She follows his lead through the arching doorway and entrance hall, decorated with banners baring the sigil of a golden rose. Willas catches her eye as they walk through the castle, “If you wish to change anything, you may. It is to be your home and I wish you to love it as much as I do.” He’s smiling at her, but not in the mocking way Joffrey did, but in a soft and gentle manner. Sansa finds herself wanting to trust him, this man who is not the knight she once dreamed of, who walks with a limp and braces himself on a cane. She smiles back, and a part of her is slowly letting down her guard.

          The destination her future husband seemed to have in mind was a room of marble dominated by large windows covered with gauzy green and gold swathes of fabric and a set of wide white doors. Willas lets go of her arm and moves to open the doors. Garlan passes by her with a grin and goes to help his brother and Leonette comes up beside her with a bright smile. The doors open and Sansa is greeted with the most beautiful sight she has seen since she left the North.

         Highgarden is perfectly lovely in the front, but gardens that sprawl beneath the balcony she has walked onto surpass the sights she already thought to unrivaled in beauty. She walks further out to place her hands on the ledge and leans over to marvel at the rows of blooming flowers and leafy trees. Willas moves next to her and places his hand over hers.

        “Garlan has told me what happened in the capitol.” He murmurs and Sansa looks up at him sharply. Willas soothingly starts to rub his thumb over her fingers. Her mind supplies flashbacks of being beaten, of being humiliated,

         “You are strong, Sansa, to survive that cesspit, and I will do everything in my power to make sure you are never hurt again.” He promises, and Sansa calms, if only a little. “I am not expecting you to trust or love me unconditionally like it is expected of husbands and wives, but I do hope that we may start off as friends.” Willas looks into her eyes and Sansa looks right back, seeing no deceit in his eyes. “I would like us to be friends, and I hope that one day we will grow to love each other.” She replies back shyly.

         “I want you to be happy here.” He says, looking out over the garden, “And that you will one day think of Highgarden as your home.” Sansa looks at her betrothed, a small smile gracing her face. “I think I will be happy here, and maybe I will one day consider it my home” She says, and Willas smiles too. Sansa looks out over the balcony’s edge and she believes her words. _This isn’t a place I have to fear. This is a place I can be happy._

**Author's Note:**

> Someday
> 
> When Willas finally makes his appearance in ASOIAF
> 
> His tag will explode into popularity
> 
> And those few of us who post there regularly now will be able to scowl
> 
> In the manner of the hipsters we so sneer at now.  
> -  
> Come stalk me on tumblr-->Blacklaceslytherin


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